Taste Test
by ShipperWriter
Summary: John bakes cookies. Elizabeth has to guess which kind they are. Sparky hotness ensues.


This was written as a result of a late night discussion on the Sparky thread at GateWorld and a Miller Lite I consumed in about 15 minutes. Inspired by Scary Kitty, dedicated to Sparky shippers allover the universe!

Enjoy!

* * *

"So. Nestle Tollhouse or Pillsbury?"

Elizabeth strode up to John's side on the dairy aisle of the small grocery store they stopped in at for lunch. Of course, John's first stop had been at the deli counter for a freshly made turkey sub, which left him grinning like a little boy.

She had just chuckled and continued shopping, picking up some items for their vacation.

She cocked her head. "I don't know. Why not get both and we'll decide for ourselves?"

John almost whined. "Seriously? Between the beer, the wine, the cheese, the sandwiches … I think we're gonna be too fat to waddle back to the airport."

Straight faced, she replied, "Then we'll just have _Daedalus _beam us back." She pulled both packages off the shelf and thrust them in front of his face. "So?"

His face scrunched in thought. "Get the bite sized cookies."

* * *

The grocery store was a short drive from the beach front hotel that they were calling home for a weekend. John pulled the rental car into the space, then took a deep breath when he opened the door on the Ford Fusion and stepped out.

His nose wrinkled.

"Not the same, is it?" Elizabeth observed, picking the groceries up from the floor of the back seat.

"Eeh, not really."

"But I get to wear less here than I do on Atlantis," she reminded him in a whisper, close enough to his ear that he could smell the light lotion she'd applied after getting off the plane.

John grinned. "Well, there's that."

He extended his arms and grabbed two of the bags, shutting the door behind him with his hip, allowing Elizabeth first entry into the elevator.

They'd arrived the day before, and spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with each other. The sun set just a few moments after they walked out to the perfectly sandy beaches, Elizabeth sporting a red tankini with a skirt wrapped around her slim hips. He stood protectively behind her, blue flower print swim trunks and one of his black shirts. She insisted that he bring at least one on vacation with him.

He grinned and happily obliged.

They had stood watching the sunset, her arms wound closely around his as they circled her waist. The moment they saw the flash and the sun disappearing, John kissed the side of her neck, whispering "I love you" into her hair.

They quickly moved their PDA back inside and emerged later the next day, realizing they had almost no supplies.

Ergo, the shopping trip.

John glanced at the receipt as he put the paper bags on the counter. "Ya think we can write this off?"

Elizabeth's head jerked up suddenly, hands pausing in midair as she removed the cold items. "You're kidding, right?"

"Yeah. Well, mostly." He cocked his head to the side as Elizabeth shot him a weary smile.

He looked under the oven and found a baking pan. "Awesome," he whispered. "Okay. Pillsbury on one side. Tollhouse on the other. Blind taste test, administered by me."

"Am I the sole participant?" she asked innocently.

"Unless Rodney pops in, yeah, just you."

That earned a glare.

"Hey," he protested, raising his hands, "you're the one who suggested it."

After a moment, she nodded. "True. I suppose I brought it on myself."

He only shook his head as he washed his hands, then opened the packages of cookie dough. She eyed them cautiously.

"Hey! No cheating," he warned her, waving an annoyed hand at her. A small piece of raw cookie dough was trapped in between his fingers.

She smiled, rather evilly at him, and John raised his eyebrows. The last time he saw that look, Thalen had been trying to kill him.

"Uh, 'Lizbeth? Whatcha doin'?"

She grasped his wrist, holding his hand still, and wrapped her mouth around the finger and thumb, wrestling the dough loose with her tongue.

When she stepped back, chewing the raw cookie, John was standing perfectly still, staring at her in utter shock. "That … may have been the hottest thing I've ever seen. Not to mention unhealthy."

Elizabeth laughed. "Just finish up the cookies, flyboy."

* * *

When the timer went off, Elizabeth took a seat at the bar in front of the sink.

"Okay, here we go," John announced, pulling the cookie sheet out of the oven with the oven mitts. He silently thanked the housekeeping staff for covering all the bases.

"How do you remember which side is which?" Elizabeth asked him, peering over his shoulder.

"Not telling," John caught on quickly.

She pouted.

"You're cute when you pout."

"Keep on task, John," she reprimanded him, gaze moving from oven to butt. Which looked oh so good in those jeans, bent over the oven door.

She grinned and quickly hid it as he turned around, settling the hot pan on the glass top stove. Grabbing a spatula, he moved two cookies from each side to a plate, placing them on clearly separate sides. "Okay, hot and fresh and gooey. You wanna wait a minute, or burn your tongue?"

"Wait til they're warm."

"Milk?"

"With cookies? Of course."

He poured them each a cup and by the time that he put it back in the fridge, the cookies didn't seem quite as hot. Still warm, but not scalding.

John walked around the bar and placed the plate in front of Elizabeth, sitting on the stool next to her. "Pick where to start."

She pointed to the right hand side of the plate. "Those."

John picked up the warm cookie, looked it over, and once he nodded in approval, gently inserted it partway into her mouth. She took a bite as he withdrew the leftover piece and began eating it himself.

They both finished chewing, then he glanced between her and the plate. "So, what do you think?"

"Good," she replied simply, taking a sip of milk to help wash the flavor out before sampling the next one.

John leaned over, getting the cookie on the other side of the plate, and did the same, only this time when he pulled the cookie back, the chocolate dribbled on her lips a little.

He laughed, then quickly grabbed Elizabeth's hands as she reached for a paper towel. "Uh uh. Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't gotten to try any yet," he hastily replied, lips and tongue fastening on hers, kissing her while slowly licking all the chocolate off her mouth. His tongue darted inside her slightly parted lips, tracing her own tongue for any leftover remains of the gooey warm morsel that she had just eaten.

When he pulled back with a bit of a loud pop, she sat there, almost stunned. Her mouth was agape as John picked up the other cookie, grinning at Elizabeth as he started munching on it. "So?"

"I think … that was the best one," she decided with a strong nod. "Definitely."

"Good," he replied, picking up the plate and standing to load the other cookies on the plate.

Slowly, she stood, moving around the kitchen to press her front against his back. "Which cookie was that one?"

"Which one?"

"That one," she told him, pointing to the left side of the plate with her finger as she rested her chin on his strong shoulder.

"Not telling."

"John!"

"What are you gonna do, 'Lizbeth?" he asked, turning around in her grasp to face her. "Hmm?"

"I - uh - mmph," was the only reply she could give before his lips locked on hers again, wrapping his hands and arms around her small back, pulling her to him as tightly as possible. The start of the kiss consisted of searching for any cookie remnants, inside, outside, their mouths.

When Elizabeth pulled back to breath, in a strained voice, she commanded, "Bedroom."

"Yes, ma'am," John replied, nuzzling her neck, kissing from her hairline down to where the tankini started. And then some. She moaned; he knew it turned her on when he would call her ma'am outside of the normal work constraints. Like how calling him "Colonel" could reduce him to sticky rubble.

"And bring the cookies!"

* * *

Laid out under a sheet on the queen size bed, John lifted his head, picking up a single cookie from the plate, waving it in front of Elizabeth's nose, trying to rouse her. She had drifted off shortly after he made love to her, continuously repeating "I love you" in her ears.

She wrinkled her nose where her head lay, atop John's chest just below his shoulder. She looked so peaceful, so tranquil, something that the city leader rarely seemed given all the chaos happening on Atlantis on any given time.

"Smells good," she whispered.

John put the cookie in his mouth, then picked up another one. "You want one?"

She nodded. As she propped herself up on her left elbow to accept it, she regarded John thoughtfully. "You know, you never did tell me which kind that was."

"Hmm?" he asked, cookie still in his mouth.

"Pillsbury or Tollhouse?"

"Which one do you think it was?" he asked, smirking at her.

She watched his face for another moment. "Both."

His eyes widened in surprise.

_I knew it._

"They were too tall for a single cookie," she informed him, allowing defeat to sink in. "So either way, you would've won."

"'Won'? We never discussed what the winner would get!"

She tilted her head. "You get to spend the weekend with your wife. What else could you ask for?"

He shrugged on the bed. "My turkey sandwich."

Their laughter echoed back into the kitchen where the discarded cookie dough wrappers lay in the trash.

Fin.


End file.
